


Almost

by Venus_Belfire



Category: Original Work
Genre: Call me by your name, Inspired Work, Love Story, M/M, Original work - Freeform, Sad, Short Story, almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-22 17:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13769172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venus_Belfire/pseuds/Venus_Belfire
Summary: Almost. I hate that word. I almost did it, I almost won, we almost made it.





	Almost

Inspiration for this work: We had a beautiful friendship, maybe more than a friendship.

 

To my dearest,

Today would have been three years since it happened. I miss you, have have you been? I wish I knew where you where so I could know where to send this letter, and that you would reply so I would have to write another. I mean, I have some ideas - wherever it is it must be far far away from here. From me. I always thought if one of us where to break, it would have been me. But not you. I should have seen it coming. When you began staying out later alone, or when your bike began to rust. You had never cared about the beach so much, but you invited me there once and looked at it like it was the last time you would. It’s been 211 days since you left and i still miss you: it’s been so long and yet I still find myself falling into old habits. Standing at the corner of that convenience store we use to meet at and finding myself turning to where you use to stand with me to say something. 

Even now, I catch myself in odd moments such as when I go to pick up another chocolate bar for you. That’s the thing about all of this; in a sense, it doesn’t feel so long since you roamed these streets, in this place you once called home. It’s an old town, frozen in time and maybe I’m frozen with it with all these faint reminders of things and time we shared, capsulated in silly little habits. Everyday I right the date I take mental notes, I’m counting the days until the idea of “us” becomes enough for you. Enough for you to please come back. As I sit in the car outside my house, I leave the doors locked listening to the music. This was your music, you loved this stuff. You use to play it over and over again until I was sick of it - I wonder if this song ever even crosses your mind anymore. If I ever even cross your mind anymore. But you aren’t here, you don’t play music to me, that’s not you anymore. But I have been waiting for you. I’ve always dreamt someone will love me, but I’m beginning to realise that person isn’t you anymore.

I didn’t see it coming, I thought I had time. That we had time. I’m beginning to realise how much I repeat it. I miss you, but I really do. I miss the days when you where still here with all of us. Still playing childish games and wearing the jumpers hung in your wardrobe, now starting to collect dust. For some reason that room feels fragile, like a piece of history never to be moved. Your parents have become accustomed to me sneaking in as I always did to meet you after they caught me when I got sloppy. I reckon I could recite all your dvds in order off by heart by now. Ihave brought myself to wonder if it was in this very room, filled with messily placed video game merch and skateboards still hanging as you left them, that you returned to each day; this room you likely came home to and wondered about that strange kid who would keep staring at you, about how nice that coffee was after school, about the first time we held hands or shared a kiss on the street that can be seen from your window. I wonder if it was here you grew bored of this place, these people and these unfulfilled dreams. But nether-less, I miss everything about you. Your lips. Your hair. Your smile. Your hands. 

I guess what I should really be saying is I’m sorry. We did everything together. Meet before school to complain about the day ahead, make faces at each other through classroom doors and through gumballs and try to catch them in our mouths during lunch. We spent so much time sneaking into each other’s houses, I still remember which parts of your floors creaked. The swing in the local playground is still broken from when you tried climbing in and getting me to push you. And I’m sorry, that I couldn’t bring as much to those little moments for you to hold them as close as I did. See, here I go again. I want to tell you everything I didn’t have a chance to the first time around. When you first told me, you didn’t sound sad about it but nervous for my reaction. “I love you.” I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you too obviously, but you never knew that. You asked me if I ever did. If I ever loved you, and I did. I still do. But you never knew that. I wish that out of all the things we did together, that had been one of them. If the whole world was watching just you and me, I would still take the chance to tell you, to have one more bus drive and be so loud the elders would report us. I go looking for you in everything in this place. I loved it when you sung or you laughed. 

I loved it when you loved me.

It was my first love. God, who are you to mess up someone’s world like this? The whole group use to always eat, sitting at the high points of the skate park, but that’s where we put on some silly old roller skates you found in your parents old boxes, and grabbed my hand while trying to push yourself along without falling (and failing miserably) grazing your jeans in dirt while I unashamedly laughed. But your still got up and smiled, your dimples catching the light during the night, fixing your cap and make me push you to see who could stay moving longest rather than actually trying to learn. I’m glad you eventually decided to stick to your skateboard. You where always stubborn, as well as cocky and conceded. And as much as I hated to like you, I did. People repeatedly asking me if I really like that jerk so much, and I without a doubt in my mind say yes.

I will admit you where a jerk sometimes, but you always wanted to make other people happy - but I guess that was one of the issues. Had I not come and disrupted your strictly religious family teachings, it wouldn’t have ended up this way. I never thought it would end like this. We spend our whole lives in series’s of hellos and goodbyes. But among all those goodbyes, you never know which one will be your last.

The perfect son.

The perfect brother.

The perfect friend.

The perfect boyfriend.

So today is exactly the three year anniversary of when I met that stupid boy with floppy black hair slipping extra cakes in his pockets during lunch and winking at me when he found me staring. Since you added one onto my tray in passing. We had the perfect love story, two goofy young boys falling in love. But you never knew. I never told you I loved you before you left. Three years since you and me still had a chance. So I was in your room again today, seeing your unframed photos of us, wondering for the millionth time,

What could have been. You are my biggest what if.

 

Yours Sincerely,

\- your dearest friend


End file.
